Aerex breathed a sigh of relief. "Never again, honorable mayor," he vowed with a slight bow, even as Orensil turned, waving a half-hearted hand in his direction. He adjusted his hat as the rain picked up, welcoming the cooling waters.

Then he looked down at the wretch that was now his ward. He gave another sigh, wearier than the one before it, and knelt down next to Dujek. "Well. Dujek," he began, untying the knot and brushing away the weird lizard Koschei as he did. "It's good to see you, I guess? How is it you ended up here of all places, anyway?" He paused, the knot halfway through. "And the others. Have you seen Talia? Or Vorodon? Or Adan?"

"Nope, not for a while, and truth be told people in this region aren't too fond of me, I've been following rumors of a 'giant ogre thing' for a while but the last few towns wouldn't even let me drink in the taverns." Dujek shrugs, "I'd actually given up even trying and just gone straight to sleeping in crypts."

Taking a quick inventory of himself, Dujek turned his crooked grin on Aerex, "Do you think you could get them to give me back my things?" Giggling, "It's for the mental stability of an imbecile after all."

Logged

For the love of meat, shut up! No one wants to hear your emo character background! My hands are literally melting away, and I'm complaining less than you!—K'seliss, Goblins

Aerex nodded. "Giant ogre, eh? Sounds like it could be our Volgotir. Wonder what kind of trouble he's stirring up."

He smiled politely at Dujek's humor. He'd never say so, but he wasn't totally convinced the necromancer was completely sane to begin with. He considered Dujek's suggestion. "Well, I'm less than eager to reenter Meisingholdt after this whole misadventure. Either of us could end up back on that fire-wheel..." He bit his lip, recalling that whatever remains of Otto Quorridge's wealth were in waiting at the inn, along with the horses.

"What are you missing exactly? And where do you suppose it might be?" He wasn't about to risk his neck to get back a few trinkets, and he was positive he didn't want to bring up retrieval of Dujek's goods with Orensil. But he at least needed the transportation of the horses.

Just as the hyaenodon was about to break free and rush towards Kadarin, with visions of crushing the mage’s neck with its jaws, another inky-black morass enveloped the beast. It squealed in frustration as it was bound anew in Kadarin’s webs.

The lone soldier who didn’t burn, ended up as dead as his comrades, as he stumbled (tripped by Adan) toward Kyrian, only to be run through the chest, armor and all, from one strike from the Carmine Rose, backed up by Kyrian’s bull-strength thrust. The soldier fell dead immediately, staring down at the blade, with an astonished look upon his face.

Adan meanwhile, quickly picked up the soldier’s sword and attempted to end the hyaenodon’s misery, while avoiding the webbing himself. He found the exercise impossible, dropping the blade once more, in frustration.

The Hyaenodon moaned in anguish.

Now the companions turned to look upon the battling ogres. It seemed Vorodon was holding his ground against the savage assault, but now five ogres in total were attacking the Volgottir, and it seemed the tide of battle would soon turn.

PoisonAlchemist: Man Muro, you boost my confidence and then you just go crush it with a heartbreaking work of staggering genius.Pariah: Don't tell him things like that, if his head gets any bigger he'll float off like a weather ballon :p

PoisonAlchemist: Man Muro, you boost my confidence and then you just go crush it with a heartbreaking work of staggering genius.Pariah: Don't tell him things like that, if his head gets any bigger he'll float off like a weather ballon :p

Turning, Kisanth arched an eye brow at the bandits unexpected burst of verbal diarrhea, at least when he was unconscious he was tolerable. "You have the balls of a northern ox to dare expect salvation from a priest of light after your spree of murder and rape across the country side!"

She closed her eye for a half second, she sighed inwardly before speaking again, her fury at Murzok replaced by a cold measure of control. "It is indeed fortunate you have arrived priest, you can perform last rites for this man before his execution." She turned and fixed Murzok with a piercing gaze, hoping to silence any further outbursts until she could properly greet the new arrival.

(OCC: Intimidation roll on a d20 = 12+ any appearance bonus for her missing eye and facial scar.)

By the time a Brother is sworn in, he knows very well that not everyone in the world believes the same things, holds the same values, or has a moral code bearing any approximation to recognizable ethics. Furthermore, a major point of the requisite traveling all sworn clerics of Trigu must perform is to utterly burn any remaining vestiges of such foolishness from their psyche. The world is not a unified place, and to change the world for the better, one must acknowledge the imperfections of the present.

Tristan knew all of this. He had taught in many villages, and been tossed out of just as many others because the residents didn't like being told that their ancient customs were morally degenerate. He had very quickly developed a sense for when a topic would cause issues with a crowd, and tended to come at such things obliquely, attempting to undercut objections with rock solid arguments. Usually such a strategy worked nicely, and people changed their opinions and practices.

So to say that the crowd's reaction to his simple speech about rampant expansionism was unexpected would be putting it mildly.

He just didn't understand it. He had provided significant evidence from first-hand observations in the towns and villages annexed along the borders. He had even drawn some graphs and run rudimentary calculations. So why had the amphitheater gone mad when he concluded that the Empire's expansionistic tendencies were destroying productivity and prosperity both at home and abroad? It didn't make sense.

...

The break in trees marking the boundary between forest and clearing, combined with the smell of something quite tasty, broke through his brooding thoughts. Someone was making camp of some kind.

Huh. Not every day you see a wolf and a human interacting peaceably...

"I'm not much of one to jump to conclusions, but it does appear there's some bad blood here; it's a good thing I came by when I did. Since I'm also not one to condone killing without cause, I'd be interested in hearing what caused this strife."

For the moment, there was little that Adan could do to reach the hyenadon, at least not without capturing himself, save to use the giant bow once more. And that was strategically unacceptable. By the time he'd managed to fetch his oversized "bow", draw the thing, and put a ballista bolt in the beast, the half-ogre would be dead, and the hyenadon probably loose. So, he gestured for the knight, the wizard, and the mouse to follow. There was more blood to be shed for now.

As he ran for Voradon's side, the razor's edge of his short sword found his hand once more. It felt right to have Northman's steel in his hands again, the same sort of blade he had held since he was a child of five, much better than the clumsy Jantiri gladius he had been issued during his exile. It felt right to be defending the forests of his home. And so as he went, he sang. Not the song of vengeance that he had sung before, but a hymn of praise and thanks unto Trigu.

Kisanth rolled her eye at the unwanted intrusion to her evening meal and impending interrogation, grateful at least she had caught the mans attention before he stumbled over her dinner."The strife you refer to is this goblin dropping covered in human skin," she paused long enough to gesture to the bandit with her staff. "has been raiding the country side with his fellow band of brigands, pillaging, robbing young girls of their virginity against their will, and murdering as they pleased."

She knelt down and placed a small dagger into the side of the fire, burying its blade in the coals before continuing. "When I encountered their encampment after hearing numerous tales of their misdeeds from the nearby village this man and his companions assaulted me and Lover," She turned to pat her wolf affectionately on the head, "and he threatened to cut my tits off, which is the reason behind the teeth marks in his back side and the broken nose." Her eye narrowed as she recalled the encounter, and how slippery the man went from praises and promises to threats and assault.

"For his numerous accounts of rape I plan to castrate the man with a hot blade after Lover and me enjoy dinner, and save this violator from his uncontrollable urges to force himself upon anything with a pulse. After I will inquire as to his fellow bandits regrouping hide out and pay them a visit come first light. You are welcome to share our fire and rabbit if it pleases you, and ensure the man survives his gelding."

"Well, they took my spare socks, my cane, and a beautiful carving of Vorodon I'd been making over the last few months, out of some fine rosewood I managed to pick up for a steal. If I can say so myself, it was really starting to actually resemble him."

Dujek went silent for a moment, looking at the lizard that was previously busy pulling rope fibers out of its mouth.

Why do you have to lie so much about that thing? Just admit that you're a failure as an artist and be done with it, you'll feel so much better.

"Quiet Koschei, I wasn't talking to you and you wouldn't know art if it killed you." Frowning, Dujek looked back to Aerex, "Where was I? Oh, right. The villagers were sure that it was some fell idol to whatever dark god they figured I worshiped. And they got my spellbook too. I liked that spellbook and I'd be very sad if I wasn't able get it back."

Dujek looked at the departing lynch mob and then up into the rain, with his most winning smile and a brief chuckle he continued, "They at least left me my boots, I don't think I'd be so willing to not disembowel a few of them and let their animated intestines loose on them otherwise."

« Last Edit: April 21, 2012, 03:50:03 PM by Pariah »

Logged

For the love of meat, shut up! No one wants to hear your emo character background! My hands are literally melting away, and I'm complaining less than you!—K'seliss, Goblins

Kyrian was dismayed that the ogres turned away from him, to overwhelm Vorodon."What shame, indignity, inequity of foe division? I shall divide a few of them myself - in halves proper and equal!"Fuelled by the might suffusing him, he charged at the ogres, cleaving one, straight down the middle!

"May I have your attention, sir? You inadverently left me out of combat - which by this I remedy."

(woo! A 19 rolled to hit, 4 damage on the dice, +bonuses)

Logged

"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

The cleric of Light raised an eyebrow at the synopsis of events. "A heinous crime, rape. I'm not sure of the penalties under Jantirian law, but under Divine law it's punishable by death. Failure to actually commit the crime holds no defense either, for the sin has already been committed and the danger to society at large revealed. I see no reason to ensure that he survives his just punishment; Trigu will see to it that he survives if in His Divine Providence this soul might still be saved.

"All of this, of course, assumes that this brigandish-looking individual is indeed what you say he is," Tristan examined the entire area, subconsciously touching on both the woman and her prisoner, seeking a resonance in their souls that would provide a much quicker judgement of character and possible guilt than trying to find physical substantiation of their individual claims. Alas, his divine senses could determine nothing beyond a mild staining of the prisoners soul, something that came across to his consciousness as an intuitive sense of griminess. "Are you more concerned with vengeance or with justice? I cannot in good conscience let someone be irreversibly punished thusly without some proof beyond your mere words, however much they ring with the clarity of truth."

Kisanth paused, listening to the new comers words and tilting her head slightly at the wisdom they held, looking down at Lover afterward as if to gauge his reaction. "Were our role reversed and I had come across this scene I too would likely react as you have, and feel compelled to ensure justice was being carried out, and not petty revenge or twisted perversion."

She reached down with the end of her staff and flicked the knife from the embers, it's hot blade hissing against the damp earth in protest. "Would you be agreeable to assisting me in conveying this..." She searched for a word that was not too unlady like to describe the slime before her, "Prisoner, to the near by town of Lannister? They are the ones who have suffered at his hands, and other body parts, most grievously, I am sure they will help provide recognition and be quite eager to administer punishment on one who has torn so much from their lives."

"Most certainly, lady. Once a hand is played, it must be seen through to the end. I shall help you convey him to the townspeople, who I'm sure will be most agreeable in administering appropriate justice, if needed. After, what say you to hunting down the other criminals that have wronged both you and the good people of Lannister?"

Tristan looked to the silent and bound suspected-bandit and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Have you anything to say in your defense?"

Aerex shook his head firmly. "No, no disemboweling." He crossed his arms, tapping a finger against his elbow in thought. "Well, you will be needing your spellbook, I imagine. I don't think Orensil would be particularly willing to hand it over, though."

He shrugged, turning toward Dujek. "Worth a try, I guess. But you're not coming with. Fire-wheel or no, they'll find a way to kill you if they see you again. Why don't you head north aways, a little further from the town. I'll head back in and see what I can do to retrieve whatever I can. No guarantees, but hopefully I can get out with at least your spellbook. Maybe even my skin."

Vorodon briefly considered the odds amassing against him. He might be able to string them out by fleeing through the underbrush, but his armor would surely slow him more than the slipshod gear of the other ogres. Furthermore, the enemy chieftain’s plan was obvious: Let his troops soften Vorodon up, only joining the battle after the volgottir was battered and exhausted. He must be made to join the battle first!

Vorodon held up a meaty hand in parley, the other clutching his axe before him to parry. There was no guarantee that his foes would pause in their assault. “Vorodon little Volgottir, for but bigger Chieftain senting others fight. Vorodon no understanting! Cow-eater Chief fear-fill for from one little Volgottir? Not like fight self-alone, so make hant of Volgotoi fighting inseat? Vorodon thinking Chief eating too more cowheart!”